Boys on Top
by Ijemanja
Summary: Chase hates House. Except he really doesn't. ChaseHouse


Notes: Slashing boys isn't usually my thing, but I gave it a go... Total PWP.

Pairing: House/Chase

**Boys on Top**

by Ijemanja

* * *

He hates House. 

No he doesn't.

Most of the time, he doesn't, and it's something that people are surprised to find out about him because wouldn't anyone hate a guy who treats them the way House treats him? And Foreman shakes his head and somewhere along the way even Cameron learned to stand up for herself, but he just doesn't. He doesn't hate House.

Except for when he does.

Because there are times, times like this, for instance, when he just really _hates_ House.

"Say it."

It's the third or fourth time House has issued this directive. He's lost count, but he gives the same answer.

Silence.

"You're really just prolonging the inevitable," House tells him amicably, and tightens his fist around Chase's shaft.

And then leans down and sucks on Chase's knob like it's one of his damn lollipops.

"Fuck," Chase says, his head falling back.

He's sitting in House's chair, pants open and legs splayed and House is kneeling in front of him. The blinds are closed, all the way around. Both doors locked. It must look just so suspicious but Chase isn't terribly concerned about that right now.

"Nope," House says, head lifting slightly so he can talk again. "That's not it."

"Fuck _you_," he replies. And grips the armrests tight.

"Not it, either."

More sucking. Then there's licking and the thing House does with his thumbs and god it's unfair - House enjoys this way too much and Chase doesn't stand a chance against his boss's special brand of enthusiasm.

Suddenly it all stops.

"Say it."

Fuck.

"All right," he bites out. "Fuck me."

"Fuck me, _what_."

"Fuck me, you bastard."

"No thanks."

Chase blinks. House has pulled away and is climbing to his feet, his hand on the desk pushing himself up. "What?" he asks.

"I'm feeling lazy." He's undoing his pants now and turning around. "You're up," he says over his shoulder.

Chase is... annoyed. Horny, but annoyed. House doesn't let him be on top all that often, though, and so even if he is doing it to throw Chase off, it's not like he's going to pass on the opportunity.

He stands and says, half mocking as he steps up against House's back, "You sure you can handle it?"

He was talking about House's leg, which he'd seen give a little and House reaching for it only to stop himself as he got up just now.

House, being House, decides to make it about penis size, turning in the small amount of room between Chase and the desk and casting his eyes from Chase's erection to his own.

"Gee, I'll grit my teeth and bare it," he says.

Chase rolls his eyes. So he's not as big as House. House is also about six foot three and there's a little thing called proportion. And he says so.

"Oh, it's not _that_ little," House tells him. "I'm sure when you grow up you'll have a great big one, just like -"

"Shut up and turn around," he says.

House smirks and obeys, leaning over and bracing himself on the desk. "Condoms in the drawer."

He finds a brand new box in there. And decides he doesn't want to know what happened to the large pile of freebies House had pilfered from the clinic and that had been stashed in this same drawer the last time they'd done this.

"Water bombs," House says suddenly, unprompted. "Mostly."

"Right."

He's got the condom on now and is working on the lube, and there are benefits - that have nothing to do with the risk of getting caught - to doing this here at work. At least they were never short on supplies.

When his dick is slick in his hand he reaches for House's ass.

House tenses and says shortly, "Just do it."

"Right."

It's been months since he's done it this way, yeah, but he's not _nervous_ or anything. He just worries, about what House wants, about the things he finds himself wanting at times, about being the one in control - about putting _way_ too much thought into something that should be pretty fucking simple.

So he does what he's good at. He does what House says - he just _does_ it.

And he forgets how much he hates House. Remembers that he doesn't hate House at all, in fact. And really doesn't hate the noise House makes when he pushes in, or the way he gasps - _gasps_ - and leans over further, planting his forearms on the desk and gripping the edge, his forehead resting on the back of his hands and making these _noises_ as Chase fucks him.

Of course he's a bastard and doesn't come. And after Chase has been panting against the nape of his neck for a while, shoves him off, turns around, and makes Chase kneel.

But that's okay.

He doesn't hate that, either.


End file.
